


good news

by choke



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Choking, Drowning, Face Punching, Father/Son Incest, Gun Violence, Harapan, Head Injury, Humiliation, M/M, Mindbreak, Rape, Ryona, Slurs, Snuff, Violent Sex, Vomiting, tooth extraction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-20
Updated: 2020-05-20
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:08:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24286384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/choke/pseuds/choke
Summary: Like dust in the ashtray, completely consumed.
Relationships: Akechi Goro/Shido Masayoshi
Comments: 20
Kudos: 70





	good news

**Author's Note:**

> Goro Akechi is the only worthwhile character in persona 5 so I wrote his father beating and raping him to death. Mind the tags. Dead dove do not eat

The campaign was but a scant few days away from bearing fruit. Preliminary counts were in Shido's favor and he felt confident in the final result. That total confidence was like liquor-- it relaxed his tense muscles and calmed his mind. There were things still to take care of but there was time to do them with the election all but in the bag. One of those things involved Goro Akechi, of course. It was clear the child was building up to something. He clearly wanted to say something to him a few nights ago. It was clearly the culmination of it all. But on a whim, he'd clapped a hand on his shoulder and said something like "I wouldn't be here without your help"-- some hollow flattery like that-- and he'd frozen stiff with this struck dumb look on his face. Like he never even imagined somebody-- that Shido-- could say something like that to him. He even blushed. But it successfully blew the wind out of his sails and whatever determination he'd been gathering fled across the four corners of the earth... he was again Shido's private bootlicker. But Shido knew that wasn't going to last forever. So maybe that's why he invited the boy to his apartment. Whatever confrontation was about to unfold, the rush of total, imminent victory wouldn't let Shido lose here... and if he could crush one more obstacle, that would certainly be nice.

The night Akechi was meant to come over was the night before the final count would be released and they'd know for certain of his victory. It was under the premise of having a drink discretely, just the two of them, secret as anything could be. The building his apartment was in was the sort used to high-profile tenants... that is to say it was very discrete. This wasn't the thin walls and floors typical of Tokyo apartments. Shido had an entire floor to himself at that. He'd let him know. Shido thought that would be enticing enough to lure out whatever it was the boy had planned, and he showed up right on time.

So there they were. Set out in Shido's very own living room, Akechi kneeled before the low table like he was somewhere formal and fancy while Shido himself relaxed, as at-ease as he could possibly be. The whiskey he fished out for the occasion was too good for a brat who wouldn't appreciate it, but presenting it to him, Shido could easily spin it like some fun aspect of what was once a purely business relationship.

"You haven't been sneaking liquor, have you? You don't strike me as the type. So this should be your first real taste of it."

Though it isn't sake, Shido wants to see how eagerly Akechi will scramble to fill his glass... so once he's filled Akechi's glass halfway, he sets the bottle down.

"... That's right, sir." It's like he's distracted. It takes him a moment, but the realization hits him that Shido is waiting and the tips of his ears go red. Seeing something happen exactly as he'd envisioned it would never fails to bring a smile to his face... with a noticeable tremor, Akechi returns the favor.

"Most kids sneak booze out of the liquor cabinet, so color me surprised... too bad. If you had been, maybe you'd appreciate it a little more. This is a luxury brand, you know? The kind of stuff sold for fifty-seven thousand yen a bottle. And this particular whiskey was brewed in a distillery at the foot of Mount Fuji before you were even conceived. Well, let's have a taste, Akechi-kun." Because it is such a luxury, Shido focuses on enjoying it-- the finer things in life will always be delicious so long as you pay them the right attention and the deep woody flavor of this particular whiskey is worth savoring even in the company of trash. Akechi's expression pinches as he obediently drinks. Really, what a waste... like feeding a toddler caviar. Still, there's a bit of amusement to be had nonetheless. "No good? Well, you are still just a kid. When you can appreciate good liquor, you'll know you're finally a man."

Akechi's hand around the glass tightens its grip. He laughs a little, shaking his head as he forces down another small sip like to prove that isn't the case. "I was just startled... like you said, Shido-san, this is my first real taste of alcohol. But I don't dislike it. It has the kind of complicated flavor I want to savor, like good coffee drunk black."

"Don't call me that," he tells him first of all, pausing to drain his glass. "What do you think, then? If you're more mature than I realize."

"I'm sorry. There isn't anyone around to hear us." Ever-dutiful and eager to please, Akechi doesn't miss his cue... he fills his father's glass with alcohol as wordlessly expected of him. "Well," he starts, settling back onto his knees and picking up his own glass. Something about him seems quietly determined. Shido keeps his face intentionally neutral, stifling the amusement he often feels when dealing with him. "... If this has been in a barrel for longer than I've been alive," Akechi says thoughtfully, smelling the drink in the glass, "then it should have picked up quite a lot of the oak's tannins. It's easy to notice it in the aroma, but the taste is much fuller than just that. It's a little bitter, but there's bright acidic notes that seem like some kind of fruit, even if there isn't really any in it. I can't compare it against other alcohol, but I don't think coffee and whiskey are so different. For example, cream and sugar in coffee can be delicious, but to get the full experience, it's best to drink it black... you can pick out a lot of things you wouldn't otherwise notice that way." Akechi pauses to sip his drink again, but the silence seems to fluster him because he doesn't linger. "... I was just thinking that this is like that, that I'm glad there was no ice or anything else for my first taste."

For how long he went on, Shido doesn't necessarily agree just as he doesn't necessarily disagree. He just doesn't care either way. He can see how hard Akechi is trying but there is nothing inside of Shido that makes him want to lend him a hand. He can only be amused with the useless way he struggles, toying with him like a cat with a mouse. To that effect, Shido hums, putting his glass down once more for the boy to top off. The liquor is giving him a pleasant buzz, warm and comfortable and relaxed. "It doesn't taste bitter to me." It's easy to take on a posture and tone like he's bored, lazy. It always makes women scramble like trying to keep his attention and Akechi isn't much different from a bitch in any other way, so he's unsurprisingly the same here as well. "Do you remember a few nights ago, when you came to speak to me in my office?"

He thinks he's so slick, but Shido can sense the sudden anxiety rising off him. He can keep a straight face but that boy's body language is far too honest when they're sat across a table from one another. "Ah... yes. When I came to see you about the preliminary count. All our hard work is about to pay off."

"And I told you then that we couldn't have gotten there without your behind the scenes work."

"I... thank you."

"You wanted to say something then, but I interrupted you. Well? Will you come out with it now?"

Akechi's face twists in an odd way, like he isn't sure what expression to make. Good. Shido takes a certain pleasure in turning it around on him when he's so sure this is something big-- he likes to see Akechi flounder, suddenly aware that not even the timing is fully in his control, that he can't really outsmart Shido. Really, he likes that kind of squirming discomfort in anybody. Akechi isn't particularly unique even that way, but he does have the special property of being acceptable damage. He'll be taken out sooner or later either way, so if he's particularly cold or mean, what does it matter? Like refusing to look at something ugly or scary, Akechi smooths his face out into more of that foolish determination from earlier. "... Yes. There was something I wanted to say."

He's downed half the bottle in about half an hour. Any man his age has a grasp on what he's like when he's tipsy. And for Shido, it just becomes impossible to be patient for anything, especially things he wants. Letting Akechi have his melodramatic pauses and silence and monologues is unthinkable torture. But with the flavor of the expensive liquor in his mouth, he's capable of staying quiet while he figures out how to say what he wants to say.

"... You may not realize it, but there's a reason other than your political agenda that I offered my services as a hitman to you. The truth is that I don't care at all about any of that. Rather, it's because you employed my mother's services just a short while after this whiskey was barreled."

Of course there's no missing the implications there-- of course this is what it was, plain as day from the moment they met just by Akechi's face. "I see. So you're saying I knocked your mother up."

"Yes." The veneer of too-perfect politeness is finally drained to expose what was really there all along. Akechi's voice is low, resentful. "You're my deadbeat father who abandoned both me and my mother."

Draining his glass, Shido supposes he might as well be honest too. "That's an interesting theory. You don't look anything like me-- you look just like her, actually, and when you talk like that you sound just like her too. Whores get themselves pumped full of all sorts of different men's semen, so what makes you sure you're my son?"

Of course Akechi doesn't expect that. The paper's always calling him an orphan, right? So to hear the man who sired him talk so lowly of the now dead woman who bore him... he looks like he's been struck. "She was sure," Akechi says, flabbergasted. "She never said anything different even once. She knew."

"I'm a good target for a woman to take a swing at," Shido says, pushing forward his glass. "There's no fruit sweeter than a successful man who's always away at work for women like her."

As though he were acting on muscle memory, Akechi fills his cup. "She wasn't like that. She..."

"-- You could get a paternity test done," Shido says, taking back his drink. His completely nonchalant manner is clearly shaking Akechi up. "But all right. I'll humor you. So say that I'm your father. What next?"

"What next?" Akechi mutters it like he's lost track of the direction he wants to go in, hands clenched around the glass. "... I'll use it to ruin you."

"... How is this going to ruin me? I'm inches from taking the whole country and your mother isn't the last prostitute I fucked. Suppressing a little media buzz is something you should know by now I'm well adept in."

"You're corrupt. You're irredeemable." With a voice so strangled, Shido can see his shoulders shake. It makes him smile, crooked and mean.

"That's right," he tells him, voice close to gentle. "And there isn't a damn thing you can do about it."

Akechi pulls one hand back to himself, something Shido only notices because he knows damn well the kid has a gun and hasn't forgotten that for even a second, but that does distract him just long enough for Akechi to lift the glass-- he knows that one very well and instinctively swats his hand just in time to send it shattering against the wall behind him and the liquor all across the floor. Similarly, he's no fool. Akechi's hands are quick and all too comfortable with firearms, so he doesn't stop to stare back at the mess he just made. The slap and the fist he throws into Akechi's face come as quick as notes in a chord, a rhythmic one-two, and Akechi falling backward is the _three_ while shaking the pistol out of his grip is the _four_. It skitters across the floor like a roach and the silence is deafening.

"Your mother liked to throw drinks in my face too," Shido tells him, knee pressed into his diaphragm and hands around his wrists. Akechi might be dazed but the look on his face is monstrous-- twisted so ugly with frustration and rage and hate and simple physical pain-- and the black eye he'll be sporting soon enough only adds to the ogreish quality of Akechi looking up at him. "I've known who you are this whole time."

Even struggling to breathe, Akechi offers up his honest opinion... but fortunately Shido is quicker than he thinks he is or else he's just too dizzy to spit up at him properly. It splats back onto his own face. Shido actually laughs, low and amazed and amused and furious. "I would commend your effort... but I don't believe in participation trophies." Pinning both wrists easily in one hand, Shido works the tie off of Akechi's neck and binds them together with that. "You could have killed me over and over again if you just took the opportunities you were given. You could even have gotten away with it all, what with those strange powers of yours, but in this world all you have is that gun. You're a smart kid-- you should realize it already." He eases his weight off him so that he can breathe. Akechi sucks in a rough lung full, skinny chest heaving with it, eyes regaining their focus. "So I just can't understand. Illegitimate or not, any son of mine should be a winner... so I wonder what exactly went wrong with you."

"There's nothing wrong with me," Akechi snaps back at him miserably. With ample oxygen reaching his brain, it seems he's gotten lively again-- he's struggling like only makes sense, kicking and writhing around underneath him and trying his grip, testing the bounds around his wrists. "The problem is you! If you'd just manned up, she would still be here...!"

After having to entertain the inane rambling of a desperate teenage boy, after having a gun pulled on him, Shido is feeling particularly humorless. He rewards his mouthy son with a firm slap across the face, hard enough to forcibly whip his head to one side. It stuns him. He's quiet and still a moment and then he's glaring up at him, a tinge of fear written into his bruised expression. Shido grins down at him, lopsided, lazy in the way of a predator saving his strength. "Nobody's given you a proper beating before. That could be it. That woman was always so sentimental about every little thing... there's no way she'd even spank you when you decided to be a rotten brat."

"Why?" Shido thinks that Akechi can be plenty expressive. The way he smiles on TV is creepy, repulsive, plastic. The way he looks up at him now, expression pinched with strain and crushed with anger and whatever else might genuinely be in his heart, isn't half bad. "Why did you..." He doesn't mean to give the kid the time to squeeze out a sentence but Shido doesn't mind much either. This instant, all he's interested in is the feeling of his skinny legs kicking out under him. The way his face goes pink when he struggles like that is a lot like his mother. Shido just wants to teach Akechi a lesson. "... what do you get out of any of this?"

"What, with politics? You should ask me what pies I don't get to stick my fingers in instead. I might have the time to read you that list." He lets the frustration wash across Akechi's face, tightens his grip around his wrists, and squeezes his knees around his middle. He lets him struggle for simple interest in seeing him struggle and he lets him register what he's telling him, lets him get angry. Then he hits him again. Not a slap for an insolent child but a walloping punch that's just meant to hurt him. The kind of blow that pops Shido's knuckles, inaudible under the sound of impact but traveling up to his shoulders with a particular kind of excitement. Though there's a practical use for this-- stunning him while he stands up and picks up his discarded toy, for example-- he could have done any number of other things to achieve that same result. No, he just likes smashing that look off his face in the most direct fashion possible. He likes the way the shocked jolt and dazed slump feel underneath him and Akechi is hardly the first bitch he's forced to shut her stupid mouth like this, so it feels as good as Shido had hoped it would and his enjoyment is worth any sacrifice Akechi has to make.

He moves up off him without any rush or pressure applied to him, stooping over and checking the gun with his back calmly exposed... he looks down at the boy he'd given it to in the first place and calmly observes the pain-grimacing, confused expression on Akechi's face. The slumped posture. He got him good, huh? Not that it matters. Though it isn't such a red-hot kind of fury, the anger growing hotter and hotter inside of him is such that there isn't any question in his mind what ought to be done. He can be as rough as he likes with something made to be disposed of and the trickle of blood across Akechi's teeth and down his chin is the last tiny push Shido needs to consider him something worth conquering.

And why not? The apple doesn't fall far from the tree, right? And though he may have provided the semen, the rest was all his mother's doing... so it follows that Goro Akechi is the model name for the blow up doll manufactured by his prostitute mother. He doesn't wait for Akechi to come back to his senses this time but he doesn't need him to. Shido can simply take hold of the school-issue tie wrapped around his wrists and drag him away like that. It isn't as though he's too heavy-- he seems underweight more than anything, scrawny like a teen girl more than a teenage boy ought to be built-- and Shido is strong enough that it might have been less effort to just pick the boy up.

For now, he pulls him to his bedroom. He reacts but sluggishly, like waking up in slow motion... kicking his feet out like he can hardly move. But when Shido dumps him on the bed, it seems to finally click in his head what's going on. Akechi's eyes are wide and his head turns this way and that as he pulls his knees up like a shield, scrambling back against the far wall. He's punchdrunk, eyes unfocused and limbs clumsy, but knows enough to be afraid of what comes next.

"You can't do this," he tells him like trying to reason with him. "I'm not as stupid as you think. Of course I wouldn't do something dangerous like this without a back up. ... If something happens to me, the whole country will know everything. I'll leak every single document, every conversation..."

Of course it's something like that. He still doesn't seem to get it, that even verifiable information is meaningless before the might Shido has gathered around himself. "If you really have all of that information available to you, there's no stopping you now." He snatches up his ankle, pulling back with a strength that throws the rest of Akechi against the wall, the ground, yanked toward his eventual executioner with a savagery that forces him flat on his back and the fear from his throat. "So there isn't a single thing stopping me either. I think you're lying. I think you're as full of shit as you always are. But it doesn't actually matter either way." When he kicks out with his other leg, he does land a decent hit on him... but in this case it isn't anything to celebrate. He's just shaking up the hornet's nest. With his hands bound behind him and one leg hoisted up, Akechi is like a turtle rolled onto its back. He can't protect himself at all as Shido slams the pistol grip into his gut. He can only double over, the fine liquor wasted two times over as it dribbles down his face and shirt and the bedspread as he helplessly vomits and retches and vomits and gasps with his airway cleared. "There's nothing that pisses me off like a brat who thinks he knows the world. So as your father, let me beat it into you." That's expensive bedding he's puking on, so Shido goes ahead and yanks him off the bed entirely. Akechi hits the ground hard enough he cries out from it and Shido responds to that by kicking him over so he looks straight up into the barrel of his own weapon. He goes still. His expression freezes. His face is swelling in a few different spots and it's smeared with blood with red bruises purpling, soon to be a dark black-blue, the corners of his eyes shiny and wet like he might start crying. His grit teeth are pink. He has long pretty eyelashes, a straight nose he recognizes as his own, and even after being tumbled all around, his hair is soft and pullable. His eyes are so wide and there is such an animal fear in them that finally Shido can't help but react bodily to it, that look that's practically begging him for any mercy at all shivering down his back and drawing blood into his cock as well as he would sucking it.

"On your knees," he tells him.

"W, wait," Akechi says, voice small and helpless but his composure not completely gone. "... If this is what you want, I'll give you whatever you'd like whenever you want. You don't need the gun."

"What? You trying to give me permission? Can't you get it into your head by now?" And this actually does agitate him. It infuriates him that Akechi could have a gun in his face and he'd still think he's capable of bargaining with the person who quite literally holds his life in his hands-- so he uses the very thing Akechi wants him to set aside, the pistol he packed with him today like a sandwich in his lunchbox, and he swipes him right along the mouth. His lip splits and blood splatters with the impact, small pitting ahead of them on the wall and a few fat drops just across from them. The guttural groan that slips out and the wet breath Akechi sucks in pulses through the thickest vein in his dick and with the hand not holding the gun, Shido scrapes his nails across his scalp and buries his fingers in his hair and pulls him up like this is the proper handle to an object, strands snapping in his grip and creaking as Akechi feebly tries to resist before good sense reminds him what he was just struck with. Supporting all his weight through Shido's grip in his hair, Akechi has some trouble getting on his knees as he'd been instructed... but Shido watches him without releasing him, still content to watch him struggle and feel the anger building up under Akechi's skin like good foreplay. Only once he's in position does Shido let go of his hair. "Look at me." This time he does it without complaining, trembling, blood oozing out his mouth, breath shaky and eyes stubbornly holding back tears. Shido smiles at him and presses the barrel of the gun against his chin. "I can take whatever I want from you. I could this whole time."

Though he's clearly biting back a retort or ten, Akechi voices none of them. His expression tenses. Shido thinks that he looks like he's bracing for something. He slides the muzzle of the gun upward, pressing into his lips with a slowness similar to sensuality. Akechi opens his mouth for him, squeezing his eyes shut and his ears turning read. It's an arousal with a coarse, disgusting texture. "So you know what to do, then." He catches Akechi's lips with the iron sight and pushes them up, baring his teeth as though he were examining an animal. It's tough to pick out with blood making his mouth an indistinct red mess, but he thinks that he must have broken something. "A faggot's more of a daughter than a son no matter what, but I hope you didn't learn for free." He holds his head in place, meeting the glare his spirited son levels at him with a gruesome cheer and pushes against the jagged tooth with the barrel of the gun. Akechi straightens up like struck by lightning, gasp rough around the gunmetal, sharp eyes suddenly unfocused as the direct nerve agony blows out his head. He's glad it's near the front. It makes it easy to press against even while Akechi struggles with his hold, easing off and forcing back against it like was once done to him at a dental office, until he feels that resistance give way. It's a disgusting kind of sensation, a visceral satisfaction to feel the tooth begin to wiggle while Akechi moans and yelps with the mind numbing pain radiating directly into his skull, along his jaw, the kind of pain that most people agree is unlike any other. "Stay still." Shido works the last of it out with his thumb, digging his nail in to crowbar and jostle and pry it out from under his swollen gums. He's drooling and crying and there's snot and blood and spit all over him now... but Shido has it out now, the pit where it once was smooth and fleshy, the kind of place that isn't going to scratch his cock up.

"Quit your whining. That wasn't so bad." Akechi has the look about him that tells Shido he could lose consciousness... with just one tooth, really? Knowing it was painful was half the enjoyment Shido squeezed out of it but he snorts at his frailness. He does react like somebody who's never been really hit before but you would think growing up in the foster system would teach him a few things... regardless of his bored disgust, he stoops over him with the pistol pressed into his collarbone and tugs apart the knot he'd bound Akechi's hands with. He seems confused, but the grimace on his face tells Shido that he's trying to make sense of it. That he understands even after an amateur tooth extraction that he should be obedient and careful. "Give me your phone and take off your clothes."

Wary and silent, Akechi reaches into the inner pocket of his blazer-- sensible enough to unbutton and open it up first, always keeping his hands in Shido's line of sight-- and goes to take out his phone. His thumb swipes and taps along it as he pulls it out of his pocket, something he must have been hoping Shido wouldn't notice because when he snatches his wrist he squeezes his eyes shut, nostrils flaring as he exhales what must be an attempt to keep calm.

Without even acknowledging that he's done anything out of the ordinary, Shido spares a quick look at it before taking each end in one hand and folding it in half. The gun he's still hanging on to acts like a tool to press the metal frame flatter and to keep the battery intact, the display flickering and distorting with the cracking plastic until there's only faint light and then nothing. He can dispose of it properly later. For now it's just something else to torment Akechi with. "What are you gawking for? I gave you an order."

The gun re-trained on him, Akechi's throat bobs as he swallows and turns his eyes downward. He shrugs off the blazer without looking up from the floor. He unbuttons his shirt with visibly trembling hands, sliding the fabric off his bony shoulders with a reluctance that has more of an alluring effect than anything that might make Shido feel guilty. He keeps his face downturned, mouth set in a firm line... bruised from the beating Shido has already given him, his skin is pale and otherwise unblemished. He looks frail in the kind of way that makes Shido want to crush his bones into dust between his teeth, under his heel, and the shame and fear and despair colors him such that it doesn't matter even a little that he's a boy. He's hesitating now with his upper body bared to him, hands nervously fiddling with the buckle on his belt. Shido doesn't say anything. He simply presses the barrel of the gun to the crown of his head, smiling as he tenses and scrambles to strip himself naked for his own father's amusement, never looking up at him or trying to get up off the ground.

Rather than get right to the act Akechi is so clearly anticipating, Shido plays with him a bit instead... with a yanking forceful pull, he makes it so Akechi has no choice but to look up at him from down on his knees, exposed without any kind of protection. He forces the gun between the boy's pink and bloody lips, a smile curling across his face. "Blow it." The humiliation of being ordered to demonstrate the total control Shido has over him right now dusts his features pink, fear shaking his body and those shivers forcing his cute, pink nipples stiff. He does what he's been told. His lips close around the ample barrel of the SIG Sauer, taking it into his mouth as it's held in place and his hair is released. Slowly, like trying to avoid the places the metal and plastic might catch his skin or knock his teeth, Akechi lets the sights tickle the back of his throat. Just one twitch of his fingers and he could end everything. Akechi's eyes looking up at him tell him how aware of that he is and the way he sucks down this deadly weapon tells him how badly Akechi wants to please him. His lips stretch out as he draws back, heaving a quick breath and smacking his lips before returning to the barrel. He mouths the tip over with his lips and tongue, lewdly working it over with the earnestness of a whore presented with real cock. "You're obscene," Shido tells him, disgust overwhelming his tone even as his appetite is steadily worked up with the hypnotizing movements of his son's mouth. "Your mother liked to choke herself on my dick. Happier than a pig in shit when I'd pump her stomach full of cum. You want a taste too, don't you?"

He doesn't pull off the weapon to speak. "Mm." Instead of that, he pulls the barrel in deeper, his hands curled into fists as he braces them on his knees. His saliva leaves a slimy bloody trail as he bobs his head up and down it, the wet slick noise the kind of lewd thing that would excite any man. If Shido weren't so well-versed in the performances of prostitutes, he might have believed the way Akechi was acting-- he might have thought the boy really did want his own biological father to fuck his tonsils black and blue. But he sees it as it really is, a desperate attempt to disarm him or else distract him enough to turn the tides... not to say it isn't exciting. Watching the proud boy he's seen on TV while channel surfing lose all of that, senselessly and shamelessly pretending he wants to suck his big dick just like mommy did. It's as grotesque as it is hot and if he didn't already think of Akechi the same way he thought of prostitutes then this would have pushed him there.

Shido pulls the gun out of his mouth and shoves him back against the edge of his bed with an ease the boy clearly finds frustrating, and tilting his head up both to look at him and brace against the mattress, Shido shoves the gun right back where it was-- at the very back of his mouth. "Slut." But he doesn't stop at the comfortable place Akechi had brought the gun, shoving down the vertical shaft he's created until it physically can't be pushed in any further. Squirming about and breathing frantically and clenching his hands in the loose sheets as his throat visibly bulges and constricts and his chest heaves, Akechi hates every second of this. He tries so hard to keep the natural physiology of his body in check, the agonized gasps and gurgling stifled as best as he can and the contents of his stomach kept where they ought to be... but he loses quick control of that when Shido fucks the barrel of this deadly weapon into his esophagus, as he pumps in and out of him with this lead-spitting execution tool, his face twisted messily with the discomfort and strain of his throat visibly disintended with the width of the metal forced inside of it. Pure and simple tears of physical exertion run down his face, caught by his hair, and he slaps and hits the mattress and the floor with his hands and feet like protesting while fearing agony worse than this. He hears him retch and feels the foul-smelling stickiness of well-digested puke on his hands as he fucks in with the pistol. Bruises and blood and tears and drool and now thick sticky vomit paint Akechi's face like with wonderful colors. Shido holds eye contact with him all the while, the thick mixture of frothing spit and bile and digestion creating a perfect grease to ease the way, and he pinches his nose on nothing more than a power-lusting whim. He grabs his wrist, squeezing but not so senseless that he'd try to fight it... only regaining the instinct to resist as his consciousness dims. Akechi squints and his face begins to relax, eyes rolling past him and seeming not to see... and all at once, Shido pulls back.

With oxygen hitting him and the obstruction in his gullet removed, Akechi immediately doubles over, leaned over on his hands coughing and hacking and retching and then sobbing without restraint. Shido lifts him up indifferently by the hair, snapping his head back to bare his throat and slaps the dirty gun barrel on one cheek. Raw emotion filters across his face, things like all the hate someone could possibly feel for another, the fear of death, the fear of being violated, anger and humiliation, but the one that lingers is just the natural miserable look of someone in a lot of pain. "You made an awful mess. Tidy this up." When he releases him, he falls forward onto his elbows like he were out of strength. But he doesn't resist even idly. He turns back to him and dutifully does as he's been told, somehow knowing precisely how Shido meant for him to do it. He sucks up his own spit and vomit, shoving his tongue against every little ridge that catches and wrapping his lips once again around the barrel to suck out anything forced inside. His eyes looking up at Shido are empty.

"Fuck you," is what he says when the job is done.

"Suck my dick," is how Shido replies, amused laughter following him as he sits down and spreads his knees with the gun cocked and pressed between Akechi's eyes.

Knowing it with all the intimacy of a lover, death looms closer than ever. So this time he doesn't hesitate. Akechi crawls forward without any kind of expression on his face. He nuzzles up against his father's thigh, lets out a strange stifled sigh, and feels him through his pants. He presses his palm into Shido's balls and rubs up his dick on his way to his fly. Akechi pulls the zipper apart to expose him and only then with his soft dick in his hands does he hesitate. He looks up at Shido like he's pleading, eyes collecting tears like eaves collect rain, a stark vulnerable fear in the way his hands tremble as he takes those initial few steps to familiarizing himself with the feeling of his father's dick. Shido watches impassively, pulling the gun along his forehead to his temple and pressing the barrel in so hard it should surely leave a perfectly circular bruise.

Why bother speaking when such a simple trick will do?

Akechi really is a smart boy. He'd tell that to anyone who asked but most people think so all on their own, even Akechi himself. He's sharp as a whip but none of that matters when he misses his target. Resigning himself to the task Shido has assigned him, Akechi clenches his jaw tight and presses his lips into a thin firm line... and relaxes both at once as he brings his soft hot mouth to the tip. He tastes him to start, drawing his slit against the broad flat plane of his tongue a few times, slow languid licks that also serve to coat the head with blood-tinged saliva. Next he tentatively pulls him into his mouth, breath catching the drips of spit down the shaft, tongue lapping up along the underside and skimming underneath his foreskin. He shoves the whole thing in without any effort or error, the floppy flaccid dick stretching back with his mouth as though reluctant to be taken out, and the wet smack as he pops him out is as lewd as any hooker Shido has been with. A line of work that he may have been just as suited to as his mother was with her tight cunt, her porn star tits and ass, her lush wet mouth that took cock like a Tenga egg-- just about the only thing Akechi doesn't have going for him is what's between his legs, even if his bony back and round ass resembles his mother's body so closely it might be eerie.

"Good boy," Shido remarks. "You're good at this. I'd say a natural if I weren't so sure you've done this a hundred times before."

If he could keep his indifference long enough to torture him with it, he would enjoy that. But watching Akechi try so desperately to get his daddy hard and merely enjoying the sensation of having his dick sucked by a slut who knows how to do it, Shido is the same as any other man. His son looks up at him with hurt and shock and shame, but like trying for an excuse not to reply, he just swallows down his dick again... now that he's getting hard, it's easier for Akechi to play with him. His breath through his nose is a little rough as he slurps up and down his father's budding erection, a hot moist puff misting his glans as he switches from sucking to licking. His bruised eye is swollen up by now, puffy and squished and dark and ugly but not so much that his vision is affected. He can still see both of his big round eyes. In other words, it's impossible to miss how he's watching him. Akechi blushes down his chest now, ears red, his face splotched with pink, and Shido reaches with his free hand to tug at one of his nipples like how one might milk a cow... a rough pinch that he intends to just hurt him with. And surely it still hurts but the startled noise that comes out around his rapidly hardening dick has a tinge of something else in it. It's natural to be curious, so he squishes the little nub between his big fingers and rolls it and presses his thumb into it to rub-- Akechi's body jolts and trembles, eyes squeezing shut as his tit is groped but unable to totally silence himself... because, after all, with his dick pressing deeper and deeper into his mouth and then throat, the slightest vibration is clear to Shido.

"You like that?" he asks him, playing up a kind of contemptuous disgust to humiliate him further. Now at full mast, it should be obvious that Akechi isn't failing to please him. The boy is gobbling up his dick like it were the sweetest of candies or most convenient of gags, the elastic velveteen tissue in his cheeks stretching to accommodate Shido's erect size but leaving so much unattended. "Slut. You call yourself a boy? What kind of boy moans around a mouthful of cock when his tits are yanked on?" Like punctuation, Shido pinches and twists and toys with his son's nipples as he holds a gun to his head. Akechi tries so hard it's admirable, but he can't keep it secret from him that it feels good-- that the decent sense in his head is getting rewritten with maddening sex and pleasure the longer he's kept here at gunpoint as a slave. He pushes his face down into Shido's pelvis like to distract him, the head of his dick the first thing to be engulfed by the pulsing seizing muscles in Akechi's esophagus. With his nose against his pubic hair, he can feel his shaky steady breathing, nostrils flaring as he must be drinking in his scent. He can really hold it in there good, his throat feeling like a vehicle for Shido's pleasure more than a part of a human body. Shido straightens out, a disparaging smirk on his face. "If a vacuum eats dirt and a toilet eats shit, a whore is meant to feast on semen. Go on, eat up. If you can swallow a load like that without spilling a drop, I'll reward you."

Though he's a smart boy, desperate people will grab onto the frailest thread if they believe it's their only hope. Knowing that surely Shido would want to be rid of someone like him, the promise of something too good to be true catches Akechi's attention... and with an earnestness so honest it's embarrassing, he doubles down. He grips the base of his dick, his fingers just barely unable to meet around it, and lifts his head enough to bring the glans to be worked over by the undulating swallow instinct at the back of his mouth. Then he slams it back down. His deep controlled breaths tickle his pubes. Again he draws back. His eyes water with the physical exertion of the act, the focus necessary to keep vomit off his dick. And again he shoves him back down. Shido wishes that they were doing this on the couch for lack of anything to lean against. He's fucking his own throat pussy with his father's monster cock like a real porn star-- better than mommy ever did-- and if Akechi weren't a dick-loving faggot with a cum-slurping hobby, Shido might have been impressed like with a fantastic product. Sucking dick like this at his age! The vacuum he wraps his dick in makes it feel like it's going to melt. The thick mixture of precum and saliva and blood makes a pink frothy lubricant, the slick wet sound just as though he were fucking a slippery pussy... the suction and sound of his gulping swallows with every fuck in and out loud and indecent. He can feel his pulse in his cock, the way it kicks deep down inside his mouth, and Akechi does too. His eyes are looking up at him, a vulnerable and needy look on his face like a bitch in heat who can't wait to get knotted down. Shido's belly visibly contracts with his breathing, balls tensing up as the need to ejaculate creeps up on him... but he holds on, wanting to watch his son's slutty battered face bob up and down his dick a little longer... until the urge to cum is unbearable, like an itch desperately in need of scratching, and as he draws back Shido pushes his head down as roughly as he possibly can, idly wondering if he can make him vomit after all. Tears stream across his face from the sudden fuck down his gullet, eyes wide and fingers digging into the fabric of his pants, and Shido grunts and groans as he pours sticky semen right down into his stomach, cock jumping and writhing in its sheath... and he holds him there until he's totally done, basking in the sensation of his throat trying to swallow him down until the afterglow fades into sensitivity.

Now released, he hopes that Akechi falls backward right on his ass. Instead of that, he draws back slowly. Using his lips and tongue to scrape his cock clean, he dutifully eats up all his semen without being told to. As he watches him gulp it down and then present his clean mouth to him, Shido laughs in total disbelief, digging through his pockets for his cigarettes. Without losing hold of the gun but rather lowering the hammer, he taps a smoke out with one hand and passes Akechi the lighter, wondering if he knows what he wants him to do... but he does know, getting up off his knees to light his cigarette for him and tucking it back into the pack. That oversized clit of his is grotesquely hard, dark reddish purple like the mess on his face. That really does disgust him but it's the aloof disgust of driving past roadkill. Shido inhales deep, relishing the particular rush that comes with nicotine after cumming, and exhales into Akechi's face. He closes his eyes, but he doesn't turn away. About time he learned some obedience. But the way he's looking at him... "What? You want something?"

His face falls immediately. "You..."

"If you want something, you're old enough to use your words and ask for it."

He sinks back down onto his knees, apparently taking him seriously. "Let me leave," Akechi pleads, bowing his head. Shido can hear the crunch of his pride underfoot with every word. He puts his dick back in his pants, smoking without a care. "Nobody will believe me, just like you said. I understand that I was mistaken. I truly do. So I'd like to leave now, and cause you no further trouble."

Shido plants his foot on Akechi's head, leaning forward to grind his face into the rug. Willfully yelling for him to stop, Akechi tries to grab at him like to fight him off, so Shido shakes off his grubby little hands and steps back down with enough force that Akechi's resistance grows weak, uncoordinated. With his cigarette back in his mouth, Shido picks him back up by the hair... when he sees his face there's a raw red patch on his forehead and a new streak of red down his face from his abused nose. Doesn't look broken, just knocked around. Akechi's eyes are half shut and his mouth hangs open, drool swirled with blood down his chin. Shido waits for him to react to the pain of having his weight supported by his hair before he drops him, and exhales smoke while he waits for him to look up. When he does, unsure and afraid and angry, Shido grins at him and flicks his ash right down onto that pretty face. "I'll dismiss you when I'm done with you. You tried and failed to assassinate me... so you need to have sense beat into you before you're allowed to leave. Maybe I'm making up for lost time."

The look on Akechi's face is the kind a kid makes when you take their things and hold it over their head. To be fair to Akechi, that's almost what's happened with the gun, but it isn't any less funny to Shido. "Fuck you," he practically hisses. "Just kill me if that's what you want to do. Fuck you, fuck you, fuck--"

That whole personality he's put on this whole time is slowly unraveling before Shido's eyes. He reaches over and slaps him across the face, quick and hard enough that he couldn't possibly resist in a state like this. "Don't act like you didn't like it." He ejects the clip and from that the bullets, dropping them one at a time right onto Akechi's stunned stupid little head. "You're no better than I am if you can get that hard sucking your papa's cock. I meant what I said-- I won't dismiss you until I'm done with you." He tosses the empty clip and the empty handgun across the room in completely opposite directions and he grabs Akechi by the face, rough, as though he were handling an aggressive animal... and after exhaling one last time, he extinguishes his cigarette by pressing it into his ear, really grinding it deep inside until he can smell the foul reek of hair and wax and skin all burning, completely unperturbed by the way his son screams like something less than human, unmoved by the blows he levels against his hands and arms. He just keeps pressing it in regardless of how violently Akechi struggles, no matter how his voice stretches and strains and warbles like an animal, finally grinning with some kind of sick fascination as he feels wetness on the tip of his finger. He yanks the cigarette butt out of his ear and watches the fluid drip down the side of his face, releasing him once his curiosity is sated and instead watching the wild-eyed Akechi gingerly touch his freshly perforated ear, skinny chest heaving as his frenzied breath takes over his voice.

Shido is a man who has committed many evil deeds but none of them have ever gone as far as he has gone tonight. He's beaten women, raped women, but never hurt any of them with the intention of stealing their lives away. He's just satisfying any curiosity that occurs to him with a disposable life, acting with the conscious desire to use Akechi up until there's nothing else he can squeeze out of him... perhaps the weight of his life would be such that he could balance against the liquor he wasted, since it certainly isn't enough to make up for anything else. Still, such cheap entertainment as this was thrilling in the same way as an underage prostitute selling herself for far too little. It was pure decadence, a brain numbing ejaculation only possible by burying himself balls deep in rot and corruption with an unrestrained savagery. It was something he could only indulge in for all the power he's amassed to this moment-- it was his payday.

Akechi scrambles back when he sees his father get to his feet, his balance clearly offset by the damage to his inner ear but spirited resistance at last here. "You can get on the bed yourself," Shido tells him as his back hits the far wall. "Or I can drag you there myself. I'll count to ten."

"No fucking way," Akechi spits back at him. "I hate you. I've always hated you."

"I don't feel one way or another about you. One. Two. Three."

With his face so fucked up, the wild movements of his eyes shouldn't be what completes the lunatic look, but it somehow does. It isn't right. It's like something is wrong inside of his skull. Like he's concussed. Using the wall as a brace, he gets to his feet and shakily starts to move out of the room. Shido follows him, continuing his count-- four, five, six.

"You're not going to do whatever you want anymore," Akechi mutters as he feels along the wall, as he stumbles and catches himself there. Seven, eight, nine. "You're going to get what you deserve. You're going to die. You're going to suffer." In the end, he doesn't even make it to the door. His movements are uncoordinated so he can only inch along, legs trembling like a newborn deer. "I'll kill you. I'll fucking kill you."

On ten, Shido is silent... he simply grabs Akechi by the elbow and pulls him back, watching with a tinge of amusement as he hits the ground, and drags him kicking and screaming to the bedroom. He throws him onto the bed and delivers a sharp quick slap across his face, settling over him. "You're making a racket. Shut your mouth."

"I can scream louder," Akechi promises him. "I'll wake up the whole building. I'll make sure everyone knows what you're doing. I'll--" Another slap and it cuts something in his mouth because fresh blood coats his teeth as a delirious grin unfurls across his face. "Help! Somebody help! Please, somebody!! Help!!" Once more Shido slaps his face, this time the opposite side and so hard it snaps his head to the side. Akechi isn't deterred, however, and screams in earnest with no intention of anything but to make as much noise as possible-- the look on his face tells Shido he only means to prickle and claw at him in whatever way possible. It's as though he isn't even particularly interested in actually getting anyone's attention. "Help! Shido Masayoshi is killing me! Rape! Someone! Help...!!"

Though Shido had wanted to avoid it at least until he was done fucking him, he doesn't hesitate when Akechi proves it's necessary. He wallops him in the gut, a dark red mark of impact stamped right in his belly to commemorate the blow. Though the swollen eye stays shut, the side of his face he hasn't beaten as badly goes taut and then droops halfway... he sees his eye roll back in the socket, jerky and strange. There's hardly anything in his stomach now but there's enough to dribble down his chin, clear slimy fluid free to go where it wants as he gasps with his mouth wide open. He lets him catch his breath in an act of mercy too good for him, and then Shido grabs his face to direct his attention where it ought to be. "I'll break your legs and let you crawl out of here if you keep that noise up. You're lucky I haven't already broken some bones. Be good. But more importantly, be quiet."

Shido lets Akechi's face go and the boy coughs and sputters in earnest. Looking up at him with such stark fear and hate, Akechi is quiet and compliant as he fits between his legs. The sudden obedience after violence like a strike of lighting gets him excited. Such tangible results from the most reliable thing on the planet-- pure brute force. So smearing spit across his dick, Shido finds he doesn't actually need much more to get hard enough for this. He doesn't miss the limp dick between his son's legs and he doesn't miss the way Akechi covers his face as he pries them apart, hoists him lewdly up by the knee, spreads him open. "Move your hands," he barks at him, rubbing the tip of his dick against the pinched muscle like one might test the temperature of water. His body jolts like he's been shocked. "I'll shove it in and hit you again, so do as you're told." It must be convincing because he does really listen, folding his arms around his chest gradually, squeezing his eyes shut like wringing the tears out of them. So Shido doesn't push in all at once. He forces it in with some kind of patience, wrapped up in the ways Akechi tries not to show how much it hurts. He bites at his cheeks and lips. He squeezes his hands around his arms until the knuckles go white. He opens his mouth and breathes slowly. He grits his teeth. He stifles all sound. With his whole dick buried inside him as he had buried it in his mother before him, Shido slaps Akechi's ass and starts to fuck him while his body is tense.

As Shido expected, his son takes dick like it were his sole purpose-- he's as tight as any cunt he's ever fucked and prettier than a lot of them were. With only spit and pre to lubricate the way, even the slow savoring fuck he starts out giving is rough. And he's stretched his ass out so far around his massive dick that the fit would have been painful even if he'd bothered to use something else. There's a dazed look on Akechi's face as Shido fucks him, his body trembling and shuddering with every pass made inside of him, and he can see his clit twitching back to life. It's the natural instinct of a conqueror to dominate the body underneath him in every way possible, so of course the desire to see the look on his face as he shamefully cums is going to occur to Shido... but it would be just as erotic to see him pent up and unsatisfied after Shido's taken what he wants.

Unlike Akechi who grew up knowing Shido was his father and remembering that any time he may have seen him giving speeches on TV or discussed in the news, Shido had no such attachment. Sure, he had just found out for certain something he'd suspected, but that wasn't enough to pin him with any real sense of taboo wrongness. Akechi's skin crawls when Shido touches him. He shudders with a palpable disgust. He's trying to keep up a brave face, but shame and horror ooze out of his pores like a pheromone. "You're prettier than your mom was," he tells him as his palm smooths up his belly to play with his chest, pinching and pulling his skin taut. Akechi sucks in a sharp breath and closes his eyes. "And your pussy is tight enough that it makes up for this thing here." He grabs at his dick, squeezing it and giving it a few good strokes. Akechi's body betrays him mercilessly-- he tightens up around Shido's cock, crying out in the smallest voice, and he presses up into his hands with his back bowed. It's cute in a way that raises no kindness. It's cute in the way of something appetizing. He can build a slow rhythm between his hand and his hips, stroking and fucking him leisurely, feeling his dick twitch and his insides pulse as his grotesque erection returns to him. He's done a good job of keeping quiet, but that isn't what Shido wants from him.

So he wipes his hand clear of his son's precum by running it up his belly and brings it back to hold him down... and fucks in like a punch, snapping his hips forward with enough strength that his son can't think of keeping quiet. He groans breathlessly, squirming in Shido's grip even as he continues. Slow but steadily violent, Akechi is whining in some mixture of pain and pleasure as his ass is abused, the look on his face practically vacant. Like he's hardly even present. Like how bad everything hurts has taken him somewhere else completely, like how he was able to get so turned on with Shido's dick in his mouth and a gun at his head. It tempts his patience and ultimately decides on the rough fuck escalating. Those lifeless eyes are so fucking hot he can't resist the drive to screw him senseless. The bedsprings squeak underneath them, Akechi's soft voice slowly driven wanton with every smack of skin against skin, every bruising squeeze of his father's hands around his hips and thighs. He clenches down around what is already a tight fit, groin twitching in sync with his inner muscles, actually moaning as Shido changes the angle... his single visible eye glazed over, lips dark, nipples peaked, dick so hard it's gone choked out purple. He holds him in place and fucks ruthlessly that same way, eyes trained on the son he's never before given this much attention.

They make eye contact for a moment and it's like he's slapped awake, like all the reluctance and shame floods back into Akechi. His face is terrified but his body is on end, every bit of him straining for the closest thing to acknowledgment his father will ever give him-- his voice gets stupid, half-formed words overwhelmed by the feeling of Shido's dick in his ass, pleas for him to stop completely overriden by the urge he surely feels to ejaculate. Like giving in, Akechi reaches between his legs and jerks his cock, ass pulsing and pumping over Shido's dick like the swallow instinct in the back of his mouth, squirming and spasming with absurd intensity as he finally cums with his moaning slut mouth wide open and his gaze shamelessly focused on the sight of his father's dick burrowing down his hole. Shido fucks him through it and past it, his son's sobbing twitching oversensitive body working his cock better than his throat did, his second orgasm buried as deep inside him as the first. He keeps their hips pinned together like that as he goes soft, watching Akechi cry in a shame and dismay so powerful he couldn't even begin to stop it. The hiccuping sobs wrack his body, tensing and relaxing and tensing, and he looks down at his own semen on his stomach like it scares him. When he clenches his teeth and smothers all sound but his wet ragged breathing, Shido can see the gap he punched in. Akechi has the proof of Shido's violence all across his body. Bruises from being hit, scrapes from being dragged. His missing tooth, his swollen eye, a fingernail he must have mangled pulling him in here. The blood down the side of his face from his ruptured eardrum. Vomit. Tears. Sweat. Semen. He's a wreck, totaled into a state that should be shocking. The clear pride he exhibits in everything he ever does whittled away to the point where he weeps openly in front of the person he hates most in the world.

It's the most erotic thing he's ever laid eyes on. Tomorrow he'll be prime minister, but tonight he'll have his victory feast.

He finally pulls out. Akechi is left gaping, cum displaced from his hole and smeared along his cheek. Releasing him all at once, Shido settles back on the bed beside him and lights another cigarette. Perhaps wary of how he might want to extinguish it, Akechi shrinks back... but doesn't try to flee even as the tears on his face dry up. Shido observes him without a care in the world besides, perhaps, what to do about the bedsheets.

"... That's all?"

Ah, right. He thinks he's getting out of here.

"I can go home?"

Shido flicks the ashes onto the sheets that are already ruined by the mixture of blood and vomit and cum. "Not quite. You'll need to see a doctor. I'll arrange for it and cover any expenses. Once you've been seen, you can go home. But before that, you need to wash up. Go draw a bath."

Though cautious, there's a sort of relief apparent on Akechi now. "Ah. I see." He breathes out a heavy sigh and sucks in a wet breath as he clearly tries to keep his composure with the end in sight. "Thank you. I'll do that." Shido is terribly amused to hear him thank him but doubtful the boy can even make it to the washroom on his own. Thanks for giving me a concussion and rupturing my eardrum, Shido-san. It's comical how this brat settles back into his typical manner as soon as he thinks he has something to gain. He slowly gets up from the bed, but his legs are jello and he can't quite stay on his feet. Shido can hear his strained breathing and wonders how much of it is panic and how much of it is pain.

"Hmph. You can't even get to the bathroom by yourself? Fine, then. I'll bring you there." Ridiculing him for something he inflicted on him is just to watch Akechi wrangle the anger on his face under control. Really, he just intends to bring him somewhere easy to clean for the final touches, but Shido feels as though there's a little fun to be had by playing like he really means for Akechi to tidy up before seeing a doctor. If he weren't so fucked up, maybe this rational boy would have realized how ridiculous that is-- if Shido wanted him gone he would opt for the fastest method. He could just wipe the cum away with tissues and a little water would remove the puke and blood. There's no need for a proper bath. But because he's practically immobilized by pain, it doesn't seem to register. There isn't any resistance like he knows he's marching to his execution chamber. He simply accepts Shido's arm and does his best to walk without leaning too much on him. And what an extreme act of patience it is for Shido to do that at all-- it takes forever and he stumbles every other step and he's rubbing blood all over his white shirt. It isn't a complete waste of time but it's so borderline that he strains to keep his indifference. But he also has to strain to keep his indifference when Akechi clings onto him tight, given no other choice but to trust Shido if only not to drop him. Now in the bathroom, Akechi doesn't release his grip on his arm.

Shido clicks his tongue like just realizing. "If you crack your head open like a walnut on the tub, it's going to make more trouble for me. Just sit down."

"I can do it myself," Akechi pleads even as Shido guides him to sit on a stool by the wall. "There's no need for you to."

Shido won't even acknowledge it. Even if his intentions weren't to mess with him a bit longer, he would still be right. Akechi isn't in any state to be doing any moving around. He sets the luxurious bath to fill and turn itself off once it's done and, maintaining a carefully neutral expression on his face, Shido takes the shower hose off the wall. Not caring about the temperature, he just gets the water pressure going before aiming it at him. Akechi doesn't quite react, the reflexive shielding of his face delayed and sluggish. He seems worse off than before. It could have seemed anti-climatic, but the stupor he's been beaten into would be hard to miss. On Akechi especially. It feels like pulling him down one more rung, nothing especially noble or even justified involved, instead pure and simple hedonistic sadism.

It shouldn't even take real effort to make him squirm now so Shido won't go to that trouble. What would the point be? So he plays out the joke of a scenario his typically sharp son would normally see through-- he directs the water out of his face and rinses through his hair. With a firm but not indelicate touch, he works the blood and puke out of his fringe and tugs his head up high enough that he can feel the strands pull taut then out, that it seems to jostle Akechi's balance on the stool... completely weak and completely submissive like this, Shido thinks that he's reduced Akechi to a state that he's never been close to in his entire life. Even a baby would cry. Such a lewd degradation of his typical manner. When he rubs away the mess on his face with his thumb, Akechi makes a painful sound high in his throat... his brow knits and his eyes narrow as Shido scrapes his thumbnail hard into his bruises. But Akechi can't resist. He doesn't really try to, somehow reluctant to even turn his face away.

The boy's own mother could never get him hard for a third time but her son is managing it today. Maybe if he did to her what he intends to do to Akechi she would have. But he missed out there. She had a demeanor to her that made him want to break her too. Arrogant. Plastic. She acted like she was stronger than she really was. She acted like she didn't want him but crawled after him anyway, secretly ravenous for whatever attention he would give her. She was beautiful and her son looks just like her when he stares up at him with those empty eyes. Shido's thumb pulls away the trail of ash and blood and drainage on one side of Akechi's face. You aren't supposed to get water in a bust eardrum. Pushing back his hair, Shido uses it like a handle to keep him in place... and hoses down the side of his head. Akechi twitches his shoulders as water starts to really drain in there, breath catching and fists clenching, and groans in such a way that Shido assumes it's starting to really get uncomfortable. His dick pulses in his pants. Akechi's eyes droop and his mouth hangs open. Shido can see his chest heave with rough breath and watches as he finally begins to muster up the urgency to fight back. He peels his own eyes open, teeth grit with pain, and grabs through the air to no avail. Shido watches how his eyes track, the jerky movements completely unnatural, the way they shake as he tries to focus on his father's face. His expression is loosening up. He tries to hit him again and bounces off his shoulder. The more white Shido sees in Akechi's eyes, the more violent his struggling gets or else the way he convulses. His body jerks and lurches upward like a hiccup or a spring. His face gets pale as he manages to put his hands weakly around Shido's neck, teeth clenching, expression sharpening, and then Shido changes the spray to a jet. Like he's been sucker punched, every trace of human emotion on Akechi's face is blown away and the cry he lets out makes Shido's cock ache worse than anything else ever has. He jumps and squirms, his slippery hands clinging onto his shirt, and when his eyes roll totally back in the socket, whatever restraint he was managing evaporates like nothing was ever there. He retches and pukes as though all the force he were capable of were behind it, the motion applying enough downward pressure that he voids his bladder, smelly stomach acid and bile splattering all across Shido's shirt and landing even on his face, and when Shido releases him he limply falls back against the wall and slides to the tile ground like a blow up doll deflating.

Laying in his own piss and vomit, Akechi paints a truly pathetic picture. For the first time tonight, Shido is actually disgusted. It doesn't particularly matter to him why that is, but maybe the smell is what sets him off. Maybe it's because he made a mess of him as well as himself. Shido hangs up the shower head to hose Akechi down, pulling off the foul smelling shirt and wiping his face clear.

"You're lucky you did that here. If you'd pissed on my carpet, I'd cave your face in right then," Shido tells him. Of course, Akechi is unconscious, so he doesn't hear him-- but he's not particularly bothered by that. He shouldn't be out for more than a minute. He grasps him by the hair, tugging his head up, and he seems to react to that. He twitches, face pinching just a moment before relaxing again, his eyes barely open. Shido adjusts his grip and gets him under the arm. He's heavier when he's out but it's hardly any effort for Shido to maneuver him where he wants-- propped up on the stool with his shoulders resting against the lip of the tub, his hair floats in the warm water like seaweed. Even battered like he is, he's pretty, and whatever bit he'd flagged just a moment ago is made up for in an instant as his anticipation rises.

Shido drops his pants and lines his dick up against Akechi's hole. He's so relaxed and stretched out from earlier that he fits in easily but it's hardly as though he's loose-- Akechi's guts wrap hot and tight around him, constricting his cock better than any pussy ever has. But it does seem to jostle him awake again. Good-- if he wanted to fuck something as limp as a corpse, he had plenty of time for that after the job was done. Akechi groans low in his throat, hands scrambling against the side of the tub, and he tries to lift his head up. Shido stays still while he waits for him to process what he's doing to him and it certainly doesn't take too long. Akechi manages to get his head up, half resting it on his shoulder to keep it out of the water, and Shido feels him squeeze down as his eyes go from his face and down his chest to his hips where the two of them are clearly joined.

"Why?" he asks weakly, despairing, defeated.

"I felt like it," is Shido's honest answer. "You're getting tighter, so don't act so reluctant. Just relax and let your papa make you cum."

Akechi shudders in a writhing, undulating way that laps up to his shoulders from his groin. His nipples tense up and his dick stirs despite everything. He gasps in a ragged breath. "Everything is spinning..." He certainly sounds dizzy, breathing slow and careful, his skinny chest heaving and his stomach sucking in to pull his skin tight against the fine bones of his ribcage. "If I move my head... I'm going to be sick. I think."

Shido gets a better grip on him, hoisting his hips up just a bit more and pinning him harder against the side of the tall tub. "Then don't move your head." Maybe he'll even do this slowly, really work him up to the brink of orgasm... he presses into his ass as deep as he possibly can go and runs his hands up his chest. "You like your tits played with, don't you?" He doesn't actually care if he gets a response, so he grabs at his nipples without waiting for one. He pinches tight, rubbing one between his index finger and thumb while tugging it, savoring the way his son's insides pulse and clench around him, the way his breath catches even when he's so out of sorts, the fact that his dick twitches and he whines and squirms his ass against him like looking for stimulation. "Just like a bitch in heat. Doesn't it hurt?" He pulls rough enough to stretch the skin like rubber, watching with a kind of delight as he squirms more desperately, feeling his own cock twitch violently inside of him and Akechi pitching his hips more urgently in response.

"Everything hurts," he whimpers as Shido leans over him, pressing his mouth up against his little tits to toy them over with his teeth and tongue. "I'm going to fall," he tells him, thrusting up his chest like a greedy whore rather than a boy with his head locked in the guillotine. "Where am I?" Shido sucks, drawing out his son's shaky voice, and kisses up his neck, biting and licking as though he were savoring a prostitute. His cock throbs where it's buried deep inside, jerking violently when he sinks his teeth into his shoulder and Akechi outright moans, desperately trying to fuck himself on Shido's cock. "It hurts," Akechi whines. "Please... please, it feels good." Shido slaps his ass hard enough that his whole body jolts, guts churning and pulsing like he's cumming, voice broken and despairing and desperate and so out of his mind with a twisted pleasure that Shido wonders if he'll miss this when it's over. "I don't want to die," he sobs out. "Fuck me. Please. Please..."

"You don't get to tell me what to do," Shido responds without any empathy. Akechi groans for it, squeezing his eyes shut and wringing tears to drip down his face. A quick glance downwards reveals how quickly he got hard, his skin pulled so tight he looks like he could pop. This is agonizing for Akechi but Shido is enjoying using his son as a cock warmer as he violates the rest of his body, leaving marks all across his shoulders and neck and chest. He bites around his nipple, sucking on it and rubbing his tongue along it. It's crazy how intensely he reacts-- he writhes like being burned, dick jerking back so hard it taps against Shido's belly. He digs his teeth in harder, dragging them into his skin as he finally clamps them around his nipple. He tastes blood and only then pulls off. Akechi trails a hand down his belly, peering up at him with a vacant dreamy look in his eyes, wrapping his fingers around that grotesquely swollen thing between his legs. Shido doesn't stop him. He just finally grabs hold of his hips with both hands and draws back. He finally fucks forward, Akechi's slutty body bucking back to meet him. What is he thinking while he does that? Is his brain just transmuting the horror and pain he feels into rock hard pleasure to keep his mind intact? Has he already been broken?

Akechi seizes, spitting up a trickle of vomit that gets stuck in his voice as he moans, irises still shaking from having his inner ear so thoroughly abused. Shido feels his patience waver and fucks him violently, jostling his whole body and jiggling the soft flesh of his ass and thighs, lolling his head back to dip against the water and making him puke again. His whole body just clenches down on him when he does that, tightening up like trying to choke the life out of his dick, so he doesn't take it slow. Akechi is stroking himself slower than Shido is fucking him, his face showing how far off in some la la land he must be, and Shido acts on the whim that overtakes him. He grabs him by the throat and holds him underwater, the bath overflowing and splashing down the sides with the initial push and with how he flails in resistance. Shido brings him back up the same way he threw him down, with his hand firmly grasped around his throat, and supports the back of his head as he gasps and coughs and sputters with inner muscles seizing and sucking and milking his dick the way they were made to. He fumbles blindly for his dick, squeezing tight as he strokes himself, whining high and pained and so obviously turned on that it gets Shido going too. He fucks him with quick deep movements, wrapping one arm around his thigh to keep him in place while he wraps his hand around Akechi's throat. He keeps it there loosely, without pressure, and the boy locks eyes with him, seeming so disgustingly deranged it makes his dick leak and his skin crawl.

"Please," he begs softly and Shido wonders what it is he really means. "Please."

So he squeezes. He grabs hold of his neck up by his jaw and chokes the blood out of his brain. Akechi gasps, chest heaving, and Shido fucks him just like that. As quick and rough as before, intensity building with every in and out, Akechi's hand pumping himself over in time with those brutal thrusts, his mouth opening wide and his chest fluttering and his eyes rolling back as he squeezes around his father's cock like it feels good enough to drive him crazy. He releases as Akechi slows down and the quick hit of oxygen pulls his voice out of his chest, an animalistic unhinged pleasure howling out of him as his lower body tenses like a noose, and Shido fucks through that with sweat dripping down his face, gripping the hair at the top of his head and forcing him underwater once more. His breath bubbles up through the water and his cock twitches like he's about to cum and Shido pins their hips in place and yanks him up for air and squeezes the base of his dick to deny him his orgasm. Akechi spits up water and groans and then sobs, babbling in a slurred voice he can't even parse. Shido waits for him to come down before he lets go of his dick, swollen darker than ever before.

"No," he wails, deranged. "I don't want to die. I only ever wanted you to notice me. I could have killed you. I _should_ have killed you! But I..."

"Hmph. You worked for me for so long that you should have understood." Shido sneers at him, drunk off the feeling of breaking down his pride into its most base components, as though recycling him body and soul. "I thought you were pretty sharp, but really, in the end you're just a lonely little kid, aren't you?"

"Fuck you," Akechi hisses, still so dizzy that he can't even raise his hands up to their intended target. "Piece of shit. What are you still here for? I'll kill you. I'll fucking kill you. I'll make you suffer, you son of a bitch."

But Akechi doesn't get to finish his tangent. Shido plunges him deep into the tub once more before dragging him back up, like dunking the washing in the rinsewater. "You should be begging right about now," Shido tells him. "You should be practicing your best manners, you worthless stain. If you apologize for being born, I might call a doctor for real."

"I hate you," he says, gasping for breath, the tension heaving from his chest downward. Shido fucks into him suddenly, making the boy yelp. "Ah-- god damn it! I hate you. I hate you so much. Every single minute spent with you was unbearable. I should have just killed you!" Shido grabs around his throat once again, squeezing and pistoning into his own child with the intention of fucking him to finish. Akechi's face screws up like in terror, grabbing at his wrist, and digs his nails in like he's not having his brains screwed out into the best and last orgasm of his life. He grips him like a second skin, like an onahole tailored to Shido's dick specifically. The sound of skin against skin is like a beating. It even hurts him to fuck Akechi like this. But the sheer unmitigated brutality of it tastes so much better as he squeezes the life out of his one real mistake. Akechi's face is changing color. The prettiness he'd admired just a short while ago is no longer present. All he is now is an unsightly object, something to be dismantled with the mercy one may reserve for garbage. Red-faced, eyes bloodshot and unfocused, bloody teeth grit, pretty face beat in swollen and purple, perforated eardrum, body beaten and bitten and used like a commodity, his dick still rock hard, his ass pulsing like to please him, leg kicking just a bit, his bloody fingernails, the scrapes and cuts he leaves on Shido's hand. He can feel himself so close to cumming. So close it's driving him crazy. He lets Akechi's throat go as his spit begins to froth but punches him in the face without thinking, simply living out the instinct inside of him to completely dominate and ruin him, a one-two wallop that drives Akechi's whole body to spasm and his eyes to roll back in his skull, his rough fuck closer and closer to completion, beating his fist in again and then again and leaving jagged cuts on his knuckles as he breaks his teeth in, the crunch of cartilage as he breaks his nose, Akechi's body undulating and his voice gurgled and raw and moaning in pleasure as his dick jumps again and again on his belly, spraying a thick load up to his ribs as he cums, and Shido holds him underwater as he shoves him to rest more on the lip of the tub. Water is displaced, Akechi looks up at him as he drowns, and locking eyes with him, Shido cums with a bone-breaking intensity as the life finally leaves him, fucking into his dead body through the whole thing, the splash of water and his ragged breath the only sound in the room when it's all done.

He climbs to his feet in something like a haze, higher than he's ever been, and drops Akechi's body into the tub. He puts his dick away and sits on the edge and fishes out his cigarettes. Soaked. They're soaked. Of course they are. Clicking his tongue in irritation, Shido drops the pack on the floor and heads out of the room. He should have more over this way, and he's right, so he lights up and breathes slowly, relaxing his body. He could use a drink, so he heads back to the living room and pours himself another glass of whiskey. He downs it quick, still smoking cigarettes, and relishes the burn as much as he relishes the fucked out feeling sitting heavy in his body.

He'll call someone to take care of this mess for him. He knows just the guy, somebody who owes him not one but several favors. As he takes up the mantle of Prime Minister, he'll truly be on top of the world without a soul left to oppose him. No bastard sons, no greedy prostitutes.


End file.
